Page 15 of Quake

I sit here, grimacing at her, my head tilted to the side and my lips pursed. I feel like I might have broken her somehow. She’s been laughing for so long that everyone in the busy restaurant is staring at her, dumbfounded.

She sucks in a lungful of air before righting herself and sliding back into the booth, leaning on her forearms. “Who exactly do you think my boyfriend is?” she wheezes out.

I must be looking at her like she has three heads. Who the hell else would I be talking about? “Gianni De Laurentiis…” I say it really slowly in case her brain decides to malfunction again.

She bites down on her bottom lip, trying and failing to repress another fit of laughter. Another squawk of a laugh passes her lips, but thankfully, it’s over quickly.

“You don’t watch hockey at all, huh?”What the hell does hockey have to do with this?Her brain mustreallybe short-circuiting right now. If “does not compute” were a person, it’d be her.

“I prefer warm, outdoor sports over cold ones, so no, I’ve never watched a hockey game in my life. Though I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”

She smirks at me. “I’m beginning to think fate reallydidbring us together. But not how you seem to think.”

I’m still staring at her, confused as to how this intelligent, kind woman can flip a switch to damn near unhinged in such a short time, but then I’m reminded of my mother, and the thought stabs at my heart.

“Gianni isnotmy boyfriend,” she deadpans.

My eyes widen, and my thoughts freeze momentarily as I stare at her blankly.

He’snother boyfriend?

She remains silent, scanning my face for any sign of intelligent life within my thick skull.

As my mind unfreezes, it starts to kick up as if turning on an air conditioner that hasn’t been used in years. Once it starts going, everything rushes into me at once.

The confusion when I asked about Gianni being proud of her, the lack of disappointment that he wasn’t able to make it to Rocket Dog, andthe hockey.

Oh my god, he’sNOTher boyfriend!

My eyes are the size of saucers as I smack a hand to my mouth. The nausea clears almost instantly, and laughter bubbles over. “Oh my god,” I breathe, “I’m so sorry!” She joins me, laughing the same way Kira and I used to when we’d get high in high school.

“It’s really okay.” She chuckles. “I’m with his oldest brother, Alessandro. He and my brother used to play for the Philly Scarlets together. Now Ale’s one of the assistant coaches, and my brother still plays for the team as a defenseman. I am curious though; last year around this time, we had kind of a huge blowout with the press. How did you not hear about that?”

I mull it over. “I had just opened my clinic in the spring of last year, so I was busy and definitely wasn’t watching anything sport related at the time. I grew up playing soccer, and those sports columns give me anxiety, so truthfully, I just never paid any attention to them. I’d imagine only people who are really into hockey would know what you’re referring to.”

“You’re probably right, or at least, I hope you’re right,” she admits, her smile not quite as wide anymore.

“Well,” I say, changing the subject, “now that I’ve traumatized you, maybe we should talk about something a little less morose.”

Chapter ten

Lark

Kat walks me back to my car, stopping on the sidewalk before saying, “We should do this again sometime. It was really nice.”

“Definitely, without the miscommunication trope though.”

She snorts at that. “Are you a reader?”

I laugh. “Most definitely, but strictly romance. Full transparency, you aren’t learning all the secrets of the world in any of my books.”

She muffles her laughter with a hand pressed to her mouth. “Alessandro’s mom actually hosts a book club every month. She calls it ‘Always Smutty In Philadelphia.’” My eyes bulge at that. If I were eating or drinking, I’d be choking right now. “Yeah, I know.” She rolls her eyes. “It took some getting used to, especially when her daughter referred to her and her mother as ‘smut sluts.’ I thought I was hallucinating.”

Irelease a loud snort. “That’s incredible. She sounds like a freaking icon.”

“Oh, she most definitely is. This is a woman who told me that if she could go back in time, she’d be the one to coin the term ‘cunt.’ She’s made it her personal mission to ‘bring back cunt,’ so she uses it as often as possible. We’ve considered leaving her at home, but she definitely wouldn’t have that either,” Kat says with a low chuckle.

“Bring back the word cunt.” I breathe in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone more than I do at this moment.”

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